


My Prince

by Faramirlover



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:29:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9097549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faramirlover/pseuds/Faramirlover
Summary: Thor must marry to secure the future of his people. He's not as unhappy about it as he should be.My StuckyThorki Secret Santa gift to LokiLaufeysontheSilverTongue over on Tumblr.





	

Thor watched as the Jotun contingent drank and laughed and cavorted. It had been a week of stilted overly polite conversation with undercurrents of murderous intent and Thor had been on edge for the entire time, Mjolnir close at hand, ready for any sign of battle. After all, the Jotuns and the Aesir had never shown themselves to be much good at diplomacy.

But somehow they’d managed to come through it with no blood shed and a promise of the return of the Casket of Winters in exchange for a more lasting peace between them. The constant waiting for disaster to strike had left him frustrated and unable to enjoy the festivities at all.

“Not celebrating, Prince Thor?”

Ah, here was the true source of his frustrations, sashaying towards him, all sapphire skin and tinkling chains. His future husband.

“Prince Loki,” Thor inclined his head but didn’t let himself look and the enticing sight that the Jotun prince made, eyes focussed on the celebrating Jotuns and Aesir.

“Have you thought that perhaps you could be causing undue political unrest by scowling so moodily at everyone?”

“Have you ever thought that, err, um-” Thor felt a rather embarrassing flush creep over his heels as he stuttered to a halt.

“Cutting.”

Thor knew he was being childish but crossed his arms and pouted anyway.

“Are you not entertained by all the festivities?”

“I’ve been to many a better feast than this. It’s rather tame.”

“Well, if you’re that bored, you’d better come with me,” Loki said, a command not a request, hand outstretched for Thor to take.

Thor hesitated for half a moment before steeling himself and taking it, prepared for the sharp sting of frostbite, but it didn’t come.

“Come now, my prince, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little cold?” Loki smirked, then set off before Thor could retort, tugging Thor along in his wake.

Loki led him through a side door so well hidden in the shadows of a pillar that Thor had no idea how he’d found it and along several corridors before pushing open a familiar door and bring them out in to Thor’s own chambers.

“Loki, why are we here? What are you doing?”

Loki gave him a coy smile, dropping back to recline on the sumptuous red velvet, his sapphire skin a beautiful contrast.

“You are going to be me husband. I think we should enjoy some of the benefits,” as he spoke Loki un-hooked the chains that kept his furs tight on his narrow hips and let them fall open.

Any though of protest - not that there really was any - slipped from his mind and he practically ripped his clothes off in his hurry to be pressed close to so much bare skin.

“Eager, are we? Has it been a while? Not many people willing to come to your bed?”

Desperate to quiet his acerbic tongue, Thor pulled Loki in to a harsh kiss, probably too harsh as he felt Loki’s lip split beneath the pressure, the share tang of copper bursting across his tongue. Loki seemed not to care, groaning and arching against him, quick thin fingers burying themselves in Thor’s hair and tugging him closer.

They kissed for a while, sometimes languid and other hard fast and desperate. He could feel Loki hard and oddly cool grinding against his hip and before long kissing wasn’t enough, he had to touch. He wasn’t sure what he’d find when he slipped a hand low - well one heard so much about the strange anatomy of ones enemies - but all he found was a hard cock and below that a tight pucker of skin that twitched beneath the pressure of his fingers.

“I can assure you, my prince, that there’s nothing to be afraid of down there.”

Thor took the accompanying chuckle as a personal insult and ducked his head to prove exactly how unafraid he was. Loki looked rather smug until he bypassed the hard column of flesh and set to licking him open with broad swipes and teasing nips. it wasn’t long before he brought fingers into play and Loki was writhing beneath him, hole dripping wet and wide open, the skin around it red raw from the rough scratch of his beard.

“Oh, you’re good, i’ll give you that.”

“Not good enough if you can still talk.”

“You’d better do something more impressive then.”

Loki’s not ready to take him, spit and tongue and a couple of fingers not really enough, but Loki’s a smartarse and needs a good seeing to. He slicks himself quickly with the oil he uses for mjolnir’s leather and sets about pushing inside. It’s slow going, Loki tight and nowhere near wet enough but he's sure that the effort will be more than worth it. 

Loki sighs with something like relief when Thor finally stops pushing inside, whether from satisfaction or relief he’s not entirely sure. It doesn’t take long for him to get impatient though, rolling his hips insistently. Thor thrusts slowly, intending to build up to his usual punishing pace but Loki has other ideas.  Thor would have liked to be impressed with the ease with which Loki flips them but he’s far too distracted by the undulation of Loki’s hips, the long line of his neck, the fine delicate fingers of his hands as he takes a hold of himself. Loki was moving faster and faster, pushing himself towards the edge with more desperation.

Thor was more than a little ashamed to say that when Loki froze above him, entire body camping down, he came too, faster than he had in more than a century.

When he wakes in the morning, Loki is gone.

* * *

 

“You utter oaf!”

He’s not entirely sure how Loki has managed to get in here in the middle of the night without alerting the guards outside or Heimdell’s ever watchful eyes.

“Loki?”

It was hard to recognise him, in place of Jotun blue he was wearing smooth Aesir ivory skin, wrapped in gold and black and green leathers. But there was no mistaking that voice.

“Of course it’s me, you imbecile. Have you gotten anyone else pregnant recently?”

Everything comes screeching to a halt.

“What? Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m being serious. Can’t you tell?”

Thor is out of the bed like a shot, hand pressing close to Loki’s belly and he can feel it, that light buzzing he can always feel when an expectant mother lets the God of Thunder and Fertility lay his hands and blessings on them.

“And it’s mine?” 

“As if I’d risk letting someone other than you knock me up! You may not care for any sort of political reputation of future of our to races or some such-”

Loki no doubt has an entire tirade building up inside him but ti’s cut off as Thor pulls him into a soft kiss, broad palms pressing against the still flat planes of Loki’s belly. The night that follows is much longer than their first together and so much more satisfying.

* * *

Thor could hear the murmurs of surprise behind him and knew that Loki had chosen to wear something as scandalous as possible, probably involving very little fabric and not much else. It was considered bad luck to see the bride - and he’d better be careful not to call Loki that to his face - before they were at the altar so he resisted the urge to turn and appreciate that sight of his future husband no doubt sashaying his way between the crowd.

“Fancy seeing you here,” there was a smirk in Loki’s voice that hadn’t translated in all the letters they’d shared.

Thor had missed it. 

He turned to take in the sight of his husband for the first time in nearly three months and froze. He had been right, Loki was wrapped in he scantest piece of red velvet - which couldn’t help but remind him of their first night together -  and dripping with golden chains, hoops and diamonds. All of which did nothing to hide, in fact only accentuated, the unmistakable curve of a very pregnant belly.

“You couldn’t have tried to be a little more subtle?”

“Now, darling, was that ever my style?”

Thor can’t help but chuckle and studiously avoid making eye contact with his mothers disapproving gaze.


End file.
